soilzied by the Queen, spitting fire in his rage, and no canary or
muscadella in his cellar."

It came not to the mind of either that this expedition would be made at
cost to themselves. They had not heard of Don Quixote, and their gifts
were not imitative. They were of a day when men held their lives as
lightly as many men hold their honour now; when championship was as the
breath of life to men's nostrils, and to adventure for what was worth
having or doing in life the only road of reputation.

Buonespoir was as much a champion in his way as Lempriere of Rozel. They
were of like kidney, though so far apart in rank. Had Lempriere been
born as low and as poor as Buonespoir, he would have been a pirate too,
no doubt; and had Buonespoir been born as high as the Seigneur, he would
have carried himself with the same rough sense of honour, with as ripe a
vanity; have been as naive, as sincere, as true to the real heart of
man untaught in the dissimulation of modesty or reserve. When they shook
hands across the trencher of spiced veal, it was as man shakes hand with
man, not man with master.

They were about to start upon their journey when there came a knocking
at the door. On its being opened the bald and toothless Abednego
stumbled in with the word that immediately after Angele and her father
came aboard the Honeyflower some fifty halberdiers suddenly appeared
upon the Couperon. They had at once set sail, and got away even before
the sailors had reached the shore. As they had rounded the point, where
they were hid from view, Abednego dropped overboard and swam ashore on
the rising tide, making his way to the manor to warn Buonespoir. On his
way hither, stealing through the trees, he had passed a half-score of
halberdiers making for the manor, and he had seen others going towards
the shore.

Buonespoir looked to the priming of his pistols, and buckling his belt
tightly about him, turned to the Seigneur and said: "I will take my
chances with Abednego. Where does she lie--the Honeyflower, Abednego?"

"Off the point called Verclut," answered the little man, who had
travelled with Francis Drake.

"Good; we will make a run for it, flying dot-and-carry-one as we go."

While they had been speaking the Seigneur had been thinking; and now,
even as several figures appeared at a little distance in the trees,
making towards the manor, he said, with a loud laugh:

"No. 'Tis the way of a fool to put his head between the door and